


Do your eight

by TheSteelDeal



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:25:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSteelDeal/pseuds/TheSteelDeal
Summary: Jeremy's day sucks. Ryan makes it better.





	Do your eight

**Author's Note:**

> For Nick @ryanthepowerbottomguy on tumblr!! Decided to cross post here!

Now usually it doesn’t bother him. He works a few hours, sits on his break, and works for a few more until, well would you look at that, he’s done his eight hours. Now he can go home and relax.

Except. Except today sucks.

So yesterday he went for a run pretty soon after work. He did his eight then was on his feet for another hour.

And the day before that, he’d gone shopping in his uniform, fresh outta the grill and ready to buy shit. He did his eight, and another two for shopping. Man, who knew the grocery store was so big!

And the day before that, he’d spent most of his afternoon cleaning. He did his eight and swept and mopped and scrubbed the floors for another three.

Man, his leg really fucking hurt.

Because, you see, well because, usually he doesn’t do all those things directly after work. Usually Ryan does the shopping and the cleaning because he works from home. But his Rye-guy got a pretty nasty bug that had been flying around the neighborhood, so most of the things he usually did, he couldn’t.

Which means that Jeremy, awesome boyfriend extraordinaire, forced Ryan to stay in bed or stay on the couch to recover and “Don’t you fucking move, or else I’m gonna attach the cat to you as a weight.”

So Jeremy, he’s working some more after his eight. And those days add up. 

And today is the fucking icing on top.

He’d been on his break in the crew room, a little shoebox in the back for purses and phones, and his manager came back to ask him to stay a couple hours extra.

“For lunch, just until the afternoon crew shows.”

More hours meant more money, so Jeremy immediately said yes, well, yes, and he calls Ryan to let him know he’d be staying late.

So he does his eight, and then another two, then another hour, and when lunch is over, he can’t get out of the fast enough.

Literally. His knee hurts so fucking bad.

He’s reminded by his mush brain to get more medicine for Ryan, and, cliche of cliches, he forgot milk and eggs, which he hadn’t realized until yesterday evening after he showered from his run.

And by the time he gets home, it’s mid afternoon and he’s exhausted. He doesn’t work lunch hours for a reason.

Ryan greets him at the door.

“I thought I told you to stay on the couch,” Jeremy greets him back with a kiss and a lecture on cold etiquette, but Ryan smiles and takes the grocery bag from him.

“I know dear, but I missed you. You’ve been gone all day,” Ryan walks to kitchen and puts the milk and eggs away. Jeremy follows and collapses at the table.

“It was so long,” he whines into the wood. He looks at the clock. 4:30. Fuck, he’s been gone fourteen hours. Fuck, he’s so tired.

He hears Ryan sit down next to him and hums when a hand runs through his short hair. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Goddamn Ryan and his communication.

“No. I just wanna, I wanna, I don’t know,” Jeremy keeps talking to the table like it was his boyfriend. The cat walks in and starts rubbing her head against his fingers. He scratches her ear for a moment then drops his hand again.

“Wow, you really must be tired. You ignored Freddie! I have to pry you from her to get attention!” Ryan tries to keep the conversation going, but Jeremy is too tired and his leg hurts too much.

“My leg’s hurting again.” There have been days before that he’s done something like this before, push himself too far and his leg stabs itself.

“My throat still hurts, so let’s hurt together.” Ryan you smooth motherfucker. Jeremy wants to punch him. In the mouth. With his mouth. God Jeremy loves Ryan.

“That was bad and you should feel bad for that. Bad,” he grouses, finally sitting up and blinking at Ryan.

Ryan smiles, “But it’s true. My throat still hurts, and you said your leg hurts, and I’ve still got a blanket nest on the couch. What d'you say?”

Jeremy was blessed at birth to meet a man so wonderful.

“Netflix and chill?” he offers instead, and the laugh Ryan makes lets him forget anything is wrong.

Eight hours and then some? No problem. He’s got his Rye-guy to take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr @ramseys!


End file.
